


The Witcher and the Rose

by Avrina



Series: The Adventures of Prince Samson [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Companions, Developing Friendships, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Underage, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Missions, Princes & Princesses, Rescue Missions, Sexual Content, Witcher - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26422012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrina/pseuds/Avrina
Summary: "You want me to find two girls I've never seen before?""Right.""And make them throw a medallion in the ocean?""Right.""I'm not done with my training.""Think of it as a final exam."He couldn't bring himself to tell his father the truth. That it could kill him to leave the fortress and his companion for any length of time, and taking his companion with him was out of the question.He sighed. "Well..."
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Adventures of Prince Samson [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769227





	1. Your birthright keeps catching up with you

**Author's Note:**

> 7 years after "The Dragons of Whitehill" we're about to learn some more about the witcher... and the Western Kingdoms.

He couldn't have said what had woken him up: the knock at the door or the arm on his chest which twitched in response to the knock and then disappeared. There was another knock.  
"Sammy!"  
Sammy made a sound to indicate he had heard it and rubbed his eyes.  
"Sammy!"  
"Yes, damn it!" he growled and Tanja beside him murmured in her sleep.  
"Master Victor wants to see you!" The witcher's voice outside the room door was distorted beyond recognition by the said door and the stone hallway, but it didn't really matter who got Sammy out of bed in the middle of the night. When the master summoned you, you obeyed.  
"Sammy!"  
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. "I'm awake. I heard you."  
"Good." As the heavy boot steps faded away, Sammy rubbed his face.  
For a moment he wondered what the master might want from him in the middle of the night, but the question would soon be answered. With a sigh he stood up and grimaced in the middle of the first step. Again he hadn't washed after sex. Since the first time he intended to wash himself directly afterwards next time - and woke up dirty, only to scold himself again and make the same mistake as before. A little annoyed by himself he let his fingers slide over his skin and decided that this could wait - unlike Master Victor.  
Ignoring the somewhat uncomfortable feeling in his crotch he searched for his clothes and dressed himself, promptly catching Tanja's shirt first. Then he couldn't find his second boot and cursed quietly. Tanja grumbled in her sleep and he growled back before concentrating and creating a tiny spark of light.  
"Sammy…" Tanja protested and pulled the blanket over her head.  
Great Mother, was the girl sensitive! Sammy rolled his eyes and grabbed his boot, just as the spark of light went out on its own.  
  


One half of the witcher's fortress was as old as the other half was new, and Sammy first passed through the old part where the quarters were before entering the new part and going to the northeast tower. If it hadn't been raining like it was coming out of buckets, he would have walked right across the courtyard and saved himself part of the way, but he could certainly do without a cold bath from above.  
In the tower he climbed up about halfway and frowned when he found the door to the witcher-master's study half open. His gaze fell directly upon the bulky crammed desk, on which a large mirrored lantern stood, spreading warm light, but the master-  
"Come in and close the door," said Master Victor, and stepped into Sammy's field of vision, a narrow oblong box in his hand.  
Sammy obeyed and when he stepped in front of the desk, the master was already sitting there, his fingertips meaningfully placed on the wooden box in front of him. A little worried, Sammy clasped his hands behind his back and took a posture as if he was standing ready for inspection in the yard; the master gave him a probing look.  
"Do you know what this is?" the master finally asked, tapping his fingernail against the box.  
"No, Master," Sammy replied far more calmly than he felt. He had a rough idea of what the box might contain, but in his opinion, it was far too early for that. The master turned the box over and Sammy realized that the wood was by no means dark stained, it was real blackwood. Fittingly, a faint vanilla scent tickled his nose when the box was opened, and he looked uneasily at the long, slender dagger lying there on purple velvet.  
"Your mother sent it," the master said softly. "It should have been your uncle's, but now it's yours."  
"I'm not ready yet!" Sammy protested, tearing the gaze away from the weapon.  
"It is tradition that the dagger is carried for a while before use."  
"How long is _a while_?" Sammy wanted to know, and couldn’t help but grimace.  
"Two or three months," the master replied, tilting his head a little. It wasn't enough time for Sammy's liking. Great Mother, from the beginning he had been taught that he was strong and that his training would be long, and yet he was already given the ritual dagger.  
"Why did you sleep with Tanja earlier?" the master wanted to know after a moment and Sammy lowered his eyes. "Did you need it or did you want it?"  
His cheeks became warm, for the answer was _neither_. It was officially forbidden for companions to initiate sex of their own accord, but a frustrated Tanja was much harder to bear than a satisfied Tanja and so Sammy took her to bed more often than he actually wanted- or needed. His silence apparently lasted a little too long, because the master kept asking:  
"When was the last time you _really_ needed it?"  
Thoughtfully, Sammy bit his lip. Sex was an outlet for novice-witcher, a much-needed opportunity to balance one's own masculinity with the feminine magic slumbering within- and there were times when a novice needed a lot of it, which resulted in them being given steady companions at an early age.  
"I don't know," he finally admitted and the master nodded slowly.  
"Take the dagger. We will speak again in a few weeks."  
"But-"  
"To let go too late is as harmful as trying too early," the Master taught him severely, and now it was Sammy who nodded slowly. Reluctantly, he reached for the dagger that should have belonged to his uncle Ruben, and then took a step back before bowing halfway.  
"Thank you, master," he said quietly.  
"Good night, Samson."

~

It was a bright and beautiful day after all that rain at night, but Sammy was in a bad mood. He hadn't slept well after meeting the master, his restlessness had made Tanja sleep badly and before breakfast they had already snapped at each other several times. Since then Sammy stood on the muddy little south yard and practiced dagger-fighting with the other novices, whereby Thomas gave him a really hard fight - he was older than Sammy, but had not yet received his ritual dagger.

Sammy fought for his balance on the slippery ground, holding Thomas' wrist so he wouldn't stab him between the ribs when a large shadow darkened the yard.  
"Huh?" Thomas made surprised and Sammy threw him into the mud before he looked up himself. A golden dragon set for landing on the large main yard and even without seeing the red spots on the wings, Sammy knew it was Rick - his brother had a completely different elegance in flying, their father would have simply let himself fall on the yard.  
"What's he doing here?" Sammy murmured with a frown and put his dagger away, although Max, who was supervising the novices at the time, had not given any instructions. He started to move as Thomas protested:  
"Hey! Help me up at least!" The older novice's foot slipped and he almost fell on his face.  
Sammy snorted. "You are exactly where you belong."

A naked Rick was talking to Benedict when Sammy entered and crossed the main yard. Benedict nodded past Rick and Rick turned around.  
"Sa- Great Mother, you look like a pig."  
Sammy shrugged; he was covered in mud from top to bottom, his hair all sticky with it and on his face it started to crumble. "What are you doing here?" he asked instead of a real reply.  
"Dad wants to see you."  
"Oh, did it occur to him that he actually has three sons?"  
"Don't get cheeky!"  
"I'm already cheeky. Hey!" Rick had grabbed Sammy by the collar and dragged him to the edge of the yard. "Hey! Get off me!" But Sammy's protest only got him one arm twisted behind his back and he howled.  
"You look like a pig and act like a pig," Rick said coolly. He may have inherited their father's face, but the rest, like their mother and her brother, was somehow too tall and too thin- it was easy to forget how much strength was in him. The fact that Sammy was not yet full grown and a good head shorter did the rest and after a knee kick in the butt - dangerously close to the balls - he landed with a cry in the horse trough.  
"Pfffft!" He spat at Rick, who was now also covered in mud and pissed off had his arms crossed over his chest.  
"Has your temper cooled down?" Rick asked and Sammy growled at him. Rick growled back and even without his dragon form the sound was intense enough to make Sammy's bones vibrate. He climbed out of the horse trough and wiped the hair from his face while Rick said:  
"Dad wants to talk to you. So remember your manners."  
Sammy grimaced, but Rick went to the middle of the yard. "Is it my father who summons me, or is it my king?" Sammy wanted to know sullenly and watched as his brother turned into a mighty dragon. The said dragon tilted his head a little and emitted a puff of smoke.  
"Both, I suppose."  
Sammy's sigh turned into a squeal when a dragon claw grabbed him. "Hey! Hey, Rick, wait. Wait!"  
But Rick made a leap which sent Sammy's stomach up into his mouth and spread his wings.  
"Urgh..." Sammy squeezed his eyes shut. He hated flying. "At least let me sit on your back," he shouted as Rick pressed him against his big chest like a doll. Rick just rumbled and Sammy sighed again before leaning his forehead against the warm scales. He could hear the gurgling and bubbling and hissing of dragon fire inside and wet as he was, Rick's warmth was exceedingly pleasant.

~

"You were right, Rick, he looks like a savage." The welcome given by Franz, Sammy's brother-in-law, in the Great Courtyard of Blackwood Castle, already reflected in just a few words their relationship. Although Sammy could have easily given Franz the same treatment as he himself had experienced before, he held back in Rick's presence; Rick actually liked Valerie's husband.  
Rick's response, however, was merely a consenting growl and a nod to a servant who approached the three princes with a pile of clean clothes.  
"Those aren't my clothes," Sammy protested when he saw the light-blue shirt and reddish-brown trousers the servant was giving him.  
"Do you have things that you can show up at court with and that are clean?" Rick asked skeptically and took a cloth to wipe away the mud from his skin.  
"I've grown a bit since I was last called to court," Sammy growled. Whitehill seemed to like to forget that it had two princes.  
"Well, you can always stop by the tailor's after you've had a word with Dad. Now get changed."  
"What's the rush?" His voice was still defiant, but he peeled from his wet and dirty clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rick shrugging and stepping into clean pants- his own, mind you, and not borrowed, as in Sammy's case.  
"Dad didn't spend a half hour with the unofficial state visit before he already snapped at me to go get you."  
"Unofficial state visit?" Franz echoed with big eyes, and Sammy made ominous:  
"Ew..." He had a faint idea why he was called. But that didn't change the fact that he looked quite silly in his borrowed clothes, for Franz not only had a strange taste in colors, but had also noticeably expanded since his thirtieth birthday. And on top of that the mud still stuck to his boots, belt and hair, which caused Rick to look at Sammy critically, but fortunately said nothing more.

~

They stepped out of the teleport spell and since Sammy was a little queasy in the stomach - first the flight and now this - he leaned against the battlements for a moment and let his gaze wander as he took a deep breath.  
"Uncle Owen is here," he rejoiced as he spotted the black banner with the orange dragon on it. Rick growled.  
"Which, considering our guest, means that tomorrow I will hold court."  
"Why?" Sammy pushed himself off the battlements and looked at his brother questioningly.  
"Because Dad and Uncle Owen will argue until late at night," Rick replied and, in a hurry, Sammy followed him down the steps of the tower.  
"Thank the Great Mother I'm not a politician," he remarked and Rick sighed.  
"Thank the Great Mother, indeed. You know who Gabrielle is?"  
"Dad's pen pal."  
"Pen pal? Really, Sammy? She's the Queen of Dolovai!"  
"Whoever a king has for a pen pal," Sammy returned, and Rick sighed again.  
"She arrived this morning with some knights- unofficially. And quite frankly, when a monarch voluntarily crosses the Ionian Mountains, it must mean something." The last words sounded a bit gloomy and Sammy said:  
"Apparently enough to summon a novice witcher." He got an unhappy look from Rick and shrugged. "What? You seriously think I'm here as a prince?"  
Rick said nothing about that.

Silently they walked through the castle to the king's public study, from which angry voices rang out - loud and angry enough that Rick did not even raise his hand to knock. An angry Sam was unpleasant enough, but an angry Gordon was better avoided widely. The brothers looked at each other and Sammy was sure that Rick was thinking the same thing as he was: when the two of them yelled at each other like that, something was wrong.  
Sammy raised his hand to knock.  
"Sammy!" Rick hissed in warning, but Sammy knocked. The witcher were accused of a lack of decency anyway, and he was a cheeky prince on top, so he opened the door without an answer- neither his father nor his uncle noticed, only his mother- with folded arms and a sour expression leaning against the desk- nodded at her sons.  
"...I couldn't care less, but you can't..."  
"...your place is here in the castle..."  
"...a green boy..."  
"...no official action..."  
Sammy only got half of it.  
"Hotheads!" Romy shouted in between and Sammy watched in amazement as Sam closed his mouth as if he'd received a magic command.  
Gordon spat a few more words at his brother's feet before he too fell silent.  
"You sent for me," Sammy said, deliberately with a lack of respect, and promptly got all the attention.  
"Yes," Sam said calmly, "we have a few things to discuss."  
Gordon snorted angrily. "You could leave this matter to me and our knights, but no, you're sending your own boy!"  
"We've discussed this enough," Romy said quietly from the background, but Gordon was obviously still not done:  
"You don't trust me or what?"  
"Of course, we trust you," Sam returned and sounded annoyed again, whereupon Rick, who had stepped next to Sammy, tensed up noticeably. "And believe me, if things were a bit more official, you'd be on your way by now, but without official orders, it's noticeable when the Knight Commander and a handful of knights disappear without a word."  
"So you'd better send your untrained witcher- son, because he's been stuck in a shabby fortress in the middle of nowhere for years and nobody's missing him anyway." Gordon snorted again. "Thank you very much." He rushed out, pushing Rick brusquely aside, and it wasn't until the door slammed shut that Sammy realized what had just been said. But before he could find any words, he felt Rick's hand on his shoulder.  
"What does that mean, Dad?" The hint of the dragon's growl was in his voice and Sam frowned.  
"Temper your tone." Underneath the surface, he was still angry and that, along with the much taller Rick beside him, made Sammy feel like a little boy.  
"The matter is a delicate one," Romy said earnestly, looking directly at Sammy, uncomfortable he returned the gaze. "Delicate enough to entrust to the most powerful witcher we've had in generations."


	2. Do we really have a choice or is this a fallacy?

The situation disturbed Sammy in a very unpleasant way. He felt like he wasn't even supposed to be here, but he was. He was probably expected to say something, but it was Rick who opened his mouth.  
"Delicate enough to lie to Uncle Gordon?"  
Sam sighed. "Yes and no. Gabrielle's daughter Fiora disappeared during a mission and-"  
"You could have left that to Alistair, then he'd be busy," Rick interrupted him with a hint of derision.  
"Who is Alistair?" Sammy asked in between because he had never heard the name before, but Romy said angrily:  
"It's not about Alistair right now. Please listen to me. When I say it's a matter for a witcher, it's for a reason."  
"A missing girl is just-"  
"Rick, enough." Romy's voice was soft but firm, and Rick's hand, still on Sammy's shoulder, twitched. He was tense and apparently easily irritable, but Sammy's ignorant assumption was that this was normal when you became a father for the first time in a few weeks.

"Sammy."  
"Hmm?"  
"Will you please listen? This is about you."  
"Sorry, dad." Sam nodded at him and Romy sighed.  
"Fiora has a medallion she's supposed to throw in the ocean. Inside the medallion is a powerful and dangerous ring, and this is exactly the problem."  
"Well, Gabrielle would like her daughter back, dear," Sam remarked with a wry smile. Sam and Romy looked at each other, spoke wordlessly and Rick pulled back his hand to cross his arms in front of his chest.  
"I'd like a reasonable explanation," he demanded, while Sammy had an idea of what the problem was. He didn't like it. "And I mean it. Why don't you leave this to the Dragon Knights? Or a seasoned witcher?" Rick's sudden protective instinct was a little odd, Sammy thought, but the situation was a little strange overall.  
"The Dragon Knights would admittedly be my first choice, but as special as men are: they can't consciously, actively respond to the power of a magical artifact," Sam said seriously.  
"Witcher-magic is also passive," Sammy remarked quietly, knowing full well that this was not necessarily true - he was the best example for it.  
Romy sighed. "But we'll have to make do with the witchers on this one, and our choice is you." The fact that a somewhat negative statement about the witcher came from his mother surprised Sammy.  
"Sammy is not yet fully trained," Rick immediately said critically, and a knowing and regretting smile crept on their parents' faces. "  
That's right. But we trust Sammy," Romy said quietly.  
"And not the others?", Sammy wanted to know irritated.  
"You know your order best, Sammy, and you know what secrets you keep and what kind of... what kind of men you are," Sam said cautiously.  
It was silent for a moment. The comparison between knight and witcher had been made before, Matt had been mentioned and the subject had exploded. By now Sammy knew enough to know why- his nephew's very existence was by no means to blame, but rather what was going on in certain bedrooms of various family members and what Matt had to say about it. Amongst other things which resulted from having four very different children.

"So what's this about?" Sammy wanted to know. "You want me to find a girl and make sure she throws this medallion including the ring into the sea?"  
"Basically-" A knock interrupted Sam's answer and he shouted: "Come in."  
Sammy half turned and raised his eyebrows. The charisma of the woman who came in reminded him of Uncle Owen- she looked like someone who should be wearing armor and a fat sword. And then he raised his eyebrows even higher as she closed the door behind her, making it clear that she was Queen Gabrielle herself and not a bodyguard.  
"We were just about to discuss the problem," Sam said and the foreign queen nodded.  
"I thought so." She looked at Sammy. "You're Sammy?"  
"Yes, ma'am," he said cautiously.  
"Gabrielle is enough. I assume you have questions?"  
Sammy blinked in amazement. Did she really think he would just do as he was told? "Quite a lot," he replied, trying to suppress his rising irritation.  
"Fine." She briefly pressed her lips together and then tilted her head slightly. "A few decades ago, a ring with a strong magical aura appeared out of nowhere. Our magic users tried to examine it - the men went insane and the women became obsessed with throwing the ring into the sea here in the east. There have been several deaths over the years."  
In Sammy's humble opinion, it would have been better to just give in to the urge of the ring, but oh well.  
"Noble children, once they come of age, may ask for a quest, after which they will be granted a wish. When Fiora asked for a quest, I gave her a medallion with the ring inside, magically protected, to throw into the sea and return with three written greetings from kings of the east." Gabrielle frowned, both worried and disgruntled.  
"And where is the problem?" Sammy wanted to know, while wondering why a young woman was sent across the world just like that.  
"Fiora's only message was that she had safely crossed the mountains. I had advised her to contact Sam, but-"  
"But she didn't show up." Sam finished the sentence. He and Gabrielle exchanged a look.  
"Fiora is a trained knight"-astounded Sammy and Rick made _'oh'-_ "and her companion Daphne can fight, too, but she left more than a year ago and even according to the most optimistic estimates the protective spells around the medallion have been used up by now."  
"A powerful artifact could attract all kinds of interest," Romy said quietly.  
"But who says she hasn't thrown the medallion into the sea long ago and is now taking a stroll?" Sammy asked, deliberately provocative.  
"Because I know my daughter," answered Gabrielle harshly. "Because I raised and trained her myself and because I know what her wish will be when she comes back. She isn't a silly thing that just wastes time. But she doesn't know what's in the medallion."  
Sammy took a breath to say something, but he didn't say it. The discussions and questions he could spare himself.  
"Will you find them?" Simple and direct.  
"I can _look_ for them, but will I _find_ them?"  
Gabrielle made an angry face at the sophistry.  
"The Eastern Kingdoms are fucking big. They can be anywhere. They could be dead, captured, I don't know."  
Rick growled approvingly.  
"And I'm not fully trained." He said this emphatically while looking at his mother, who really didn't seem happy about this fact, although she probably didn't know what it really meant either.  
"Just think of it as your final exam," Sam said, trying to use a light tone that couldn't quite mask his own subliminal concern.  
Sammy couldn't bring himself to tell his father the truth. That it could kill him to leave the fortress and his companion for a longer time. He couldn't take Tanja with him, and although any girl would do it for a while if his magic bitched around, he would soon feel the absence of the special companion bond. Without the rituals, the routine, the potions... his magic would soon be highly dangerous.

Gabrielle looked at him, waiting and challenging.  
"I don't know what it means to be a novice, but you should say _no_ ," Rick said quietly.  
"I can't." Sammy gave back.  
"Sure you can, little dragon. I don't want to lose another brother."  
"Boys," Romy admonished, and Sammy, who had knowingly swallowed a remark about Matt, looked up guiltily. Rick had addressed him in dragon language- Sammy couldn't use it consciously, just react- but that gave them a chance to keep a secret, which of course their parents didn't like.  
"Worry about your wife and child," Sammy said faintly, avoiding Rick's gaze as Sam sighed.  
"Boys, enough."  
Sammy didn't really have a choice, he knew that and so did Rick. "Is there any description for the girls?" he wanted to know.  
Gabrielle and Sam nodded and Sam pulled out a couple of pages from a drawer of his desk and handed them to Sammy. Irritated, Sammy raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what _companions_ were in the West, but either the two were sisters or the illustrator was not very talented. Two girls looked at him, both with heart-shaped faces, delicate noses and bright eyes. **Fiora** obviously had long dark hair, **Daphne** short. He would probably find a young woman right here in the castle who looked like this, but he denied any comment. Instead, he looked at the third sheet. A crest was painted on it: rose blossoms, connected with thorny tendrils, formed a large triangle with its tip pointing downwards. Next to it stood letters so pointed that they seemed to stab the reader: _red and black flowers, dark green tendrils, cream background._  
"Fiora's crest," Gabrielle said unnecessarily.  
Sammy nodded silently and handed back the drawings. Searching the Eastern Kingdoms for two girls could quickly become a life's work- unless they still had the medallion with the magic ring on them, in which case Sammy's senses could really do something.  
"Describe the ring to me."  
Gabrielle seemed uncomfortable. "It's gold, with a rectangular dark sapphire inside. To its left and right are two small round aquamarines. I myself only saw it once, but it shimmers as if it was wet. As I said, it makes men go mad and women become obsessed with the sea. By the way, it doesn't matter if they are magically gifted or not, existing magic only accelerates the whole thing."  
"And it's enough that the ring is nearby?" Sammy asked doubtfully.  
"No, luckily not. I haven't felt anything but discomfort myself, but most say the ring has a palpable magical aura." Gabrielle shrugged. "Those who work with the ring get caught. Therefore, it was locked away until a favorable opportunity presented itself."  
"You could have simply handed the ring to a mercenary. Magically wrapped, of course," Rick said dryly, and she sighed.  
"I could have," she admitted, but said nothing else, so that Rick's face became grim.  
"All right," Sammy finally said quietly. Couldn't they have waited a few more months for the final rituals to be completed? Probably not.  
"Thank you," Gabrielle said sincerely, and he forced a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's character profile: [click](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421858/chapters/64698475)


End file.
